05-DEC-A-6

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM MARYLAND—2005

THE YEAR OF THE MISSION,

AND MOUNTAINS AND MARATHONS

2005

THE YEAR OF THE MISSION,

AND MOUNTAINS AND MARATHONS

--Beyond “Twice Told Tales!”

Merry Christmas-2005! You may have been very patient with me through prior year-end reviews of benchmarks and birds and beasts, even down to the level of bugs—as in the last “Year of the Cicada.” But you may have also noted some long promised changes creeping over the annual look back over the events and opportunities at each Christmas. I had hoped to make of the Year of the Mission something fresh and interesting, even though it might seem at superficial glance to appear as “twice-told tales.” I have made the usual on-line full photojournalistic reports from Asia (twice), Africa (twice) visits with Grandkids (twice) big game hunts (twice), storms (twice,) mountain adventures (twice) and marathons (twice) at the usual On-Line Journal site of the Home Page http://home.gwu.edu/~gwg. I have even opened up a “Blog” at the address http://hunterandgatherer.org for those who may wish to vicariously live through these real-time experiences of 2005.

I assure you that this “Year of the Mission” is as full of adventure and zestful experiences as any you may have explored through these pages before and are recorded in text and image in as full a series of a score of photo albums, scores of discs and tapes and each adventure can be made available for your review according to specific interests. But I have also listened to the counsel of one very good friend who reminded me that “less might be more,” so rather than imposing a volume of “required reading” (with which volumes I have become quite familiar in my other contemporaneous life as a doctoral graduate student) I will abbreviate this review to kill fewer trees, and give references to the further sources where the more complete descriptions may be found. But, I am moving toward a more recent century in the technology of digital imaging and recording these events for the interests some of you have requested, and will summarize the weeks of the “Year of the Mission” in edited pictorial array following a summary overview of 2005. Neither you nor I have got any lazier (and, of course, aging has slowed down neither side in this communication,) Film, paper and tape have served me well over many decades in what may be unique peregrinations through pages and scenes not yet seen in the National Geographic. But you may well be “more pushed for time” than I and I will try to make this review a more efficient one with that in mind for 2005, with further digital refinements following as I learn my way out of the seventeenth century of print information democracy! If you hold two dozen pages of the “Year of the Mission-05” you have the tree-sparing abridged version; if you hold ten times that number, lucky you, you have the unexpurgated illustrated complete text!

THE YEAR OF THE MISSION

Yes, there have been missions throughout 2005—many of them—but what makes this year’s missions different is that early in the year (February,) I had the humbling honor of induction into the “Medical Mission Hall of Fame” in order to inspire others who might be considering such service. That celebration in Toledo Ohio took place upon my return from repeated missions in Mindanao and Leyte Philippines, and immediately before an inaugural mission to Old Fangak Sudan. I had left after the Toledo MMHOF ceremonies to fly with four of my mission-veteran GWU medical students through Nairobi and Lokichoggio (the UN camp and air base for airlifting food and medical supplies to troubled Darfur in “Operation Sudan Lifeline) Kenya to be airlifted by the UN into Southern Sudan, camped out on the banks of the White Nile in medical/surgical service to the much persecuted Nuer and Dinka Sudanese peoples. The MMHOF celebration was attended by representatives of all of my family and friends and mementoes from it are summarized on a DVD produced by Dr. Larry Conway, president of the Medical Mission Hall of Fame

Another inaugural mission site was enjoyed in a surgical experience in Asmara Eritrea in August with several GWU medical students, along with colleagues from Howard University, and there will be return missions to Eritrea as well as Malawi, Ethiopia, Somaliland and new ones planned for Rwanda (in March.) Planned returns to some mission sites were disrupted by the political unrest often accompanying poverty and desperation (Haiti, Somalia, Congo, and Ethiopia.) The very rewarding experience of introducing new health care practitioners into the transformational experience of mission medicine may constitute the “laboratory component” of my Executive Leadership Doctoral Program thesis to be launched following next Spring’s doctoral “Comps.” This year might have been unique for seeing a major medical mission on the domestic front: I mobilized as the first of the relief groups into New Orleans Jefferson Parish behind the ravages of Katrina, attending to a desperate people leading tragic lives---and that was before the storm. Missions define the 2005 “Year of the Mission” and most of the others you have read previously, and I might hope many more to come.

MOUNTAINS’ MAJESTY

There have been many mountains to be climbed in 2005, as in other years when I had reported from summits in the Himalayas or Rainier or the Andes, and the New Year will start off with a climb of the second highest peak in the Philippines, Mount Kitanglad. But, I will single out two sets of mountains in unique settings in 2005 and reference still higher pinnacles to be attempted using the mountains as metaphors. The two mountains in their ranges are “Babadog” in the Great Caucasus and “Mount Donald” in the Rocky Mountain Maroon Bells.

In July, I had flown to Baku Azerbaijan at the cleft between continents of Eastern Europe and Western Asia and climbed the “Big Caucasus” (“Babadog”) at the furthest reaches of Europe looking over at the Asian Ural mountain margin. The slippery and unstable scree almost did me in on the efforts to hang on to the slopes of the shear fall line, and I had interesting encounters with an interior grizzly bear, the majestic Caucasus Tur and a hardy group of Azeri guides in the rugged Caucasus slopes. After climbing all day on my first day, I had to negotiate the downslope after my climbing stick had broken through the rising fog and falling darkness toward a rendezvous point where horse were being brought around to get me back to camp. In a sudden slip off the unstable scree slope, I plummeted down toward some birches which I caught to arrest the fall. Unfortunately, after grasping the birch, my fall broke it as well, and I was knocked out in the further plunge to wake up on a small ledge with my nose pushed over to the left side of my face—the “bumper” that had arrested my descent. In the dark, I took a self portrait with the digital camera and saw that it was maligned, but while it was still numb, I could push it back over to the middle—dismounting after midnight in the Tur Hunt Camp with no permanent apparent loss in what was probably not just a pretty face to start!

As I was climbing in the Maroon Bells in the full glory of the golden aspen in Colorado’s October first elk season, I had scored on opening day (“see Hunts.”) I had several days of packing venison and re-supplying the horse feed for the packhorses and stubborn mules at our camp from Crystal. The beautiful rustic feature of Crystal Colorado is the ruins of the Crystal Mill amid the snow capped peaks surrounded by golden aspen—an image I had seen last year and also when I was operating in January in Leyte Baptist Hospital on a man with von Recklinghausen’s Syndrome and a malignant retroperitoneal neurofibrosarcoma. During the most difficult part of the dissection when I was unsure whether I might be able to clear around the large tumor without sacrifice of his gut or blood supply to it, I looked up, and there was a portrait on the wall of the serene Crystal Mill a world away from where I had seen it, superimposed with a religious poem.

I remembered that answer to prayers as I climbed unarmed except for cameras to a prominent peak in the Maroon Bells, and sat at the summit for several hours on the morning of October 18. It was during just this time that my first son Donald was being operated in Gainesville at UF Shands University Hospital (where he had once worked) having his aortic valve replaced in a major turning point in his life. The need for this serious operation came to his attention abruptly when he learned he had a calcified insufficient bicuspid valve that needed to be replaced. He had been running regularly in the fall, preparing for a February marathon when he had his blood pressure checked His blood pressure was noted to be 84/24 as he was declined as a prospective blood donor, prompting a phonocardiogram and cardiac catheterization with the decision then posed as to replacement with a mechanical or biologic valve. The former would change his life style and work pattern considerably since it would require anticoagulation, but the latter might not last as long, with the potential for repeat valve replacement, although without the anticoagulation requirement. He chose the latter, and it was carried out as I sat on the summit of the magnificent peak in Colorado thinking of his life and this event 1500 miles and two time zones southeast of where I marked the elevation and GPS coordinates of the peak. As I left the summit, a beautiful raptor settled with wings spread to alight on the very same rock I had just left, and at the same time, I learned later, that Donald had left the OR, extubated immediately and discharged from the ICU on the third day. These “peak experiences” are answers to prayers for transformation of lives important to me, as another was also in transition at that same time as Donald’s “Change of Heart.” On return to camp, I asked the name of the mountain on which I had passed the morning, and found it was unknown or unnamed, so I submitted the data with the name “Mount Donald” hoping to share that peak experience with him on the anniversary of his heart-stopping operation this October.

MARATHONS:

THE 99^TH IN Prague, & THE 25th MCM, = 100^TH 26.2 MILER

The usual long runs and races were well represented this year. Among the many fun runs and 10 K’s like April’s Pike’s Peak and November’s Turkey Chase, I ran the “Big Three” Ten-Miler Races in the Capital area in 2005, the Cherry Blossom Ten-Miler in April on a very cold and blustery day with Joe, the usually hot Annapolis Ten-Miler in August preceded by a rain squall, and the “Inaugural Army Eleven-and- Half-Miler” in October. This last is the largest Ten-Mile Race in North America and arguably the world, with teams from Korea, Germany and Iraq flown in to compete with registered runners from every state, many nations and even Derwood Md. It was a pretty fall day at the Pentagon and there were predictions of a fast course and lots of PR’s, perhaps with a new world record performance. At the recurring thud of the starting howitzers I ran out a bit too fast in pace, but felt good and held the pace through the fall scenery of the Capitol. I thought I would have enough energy to sprint the last mile or so and picked it up as I realized I might break my own Ten Mile PR, but never could see the finish line when I had calculated I should have it in view. A young woman nearby was crying that she could not make it, and they had changed the course. I did not remember going around the Tidal Basin on this race before, but grabbed her arm and pulled her to a sprinting finish as she was gasping, delighted just to have finished, but about five minutes later than she had hoped to arrive. It was then I heard the announcer calling out “We thank all of you good sports for your great run, but there is no timing, there are no records, and the race was canceled by the DC Police about fifteen minutes after the start for a security breach, and we had to divert the run through a new and longer course!” Apparently, an unknown suspicious package was spotted under a bridge we would have to cross and the additional mile and a half diversion had exhausted many of the hyper runners who were giving it their all out maximum effort at the ten mile point. I laughed, since it was a good training run for a big race for me coming up three weeks later along parts of the same course, which would be extended twice and a half over the ten miles most were expecting in this race!

I had taken an elective course in May for my doctoral program that involved reviewing the changes in Eastern Europe with the political and economic reforms of the past decades. It would be my first chance to return to Prague since I had gone there when it was part of the repressive Soviet Bloc thirty years ago, when there was still a Czechoslovakia. Now, we would study, interview and visit sites in the Czech Republic, Bratislava, Slovakia, and Budapest Hungary, with only one “day off”, but the instructor had said “At least on that day, May 22, you can go watch the Prague International Marathon, a big happening in the medieval streets of Prague!” Right! I was registered for the PIM about seven minutes later, and had wanted to run this European course for a couple of reasons. This would mark my 99^th marathon, and I had wanted to surpass that number for sentimental reasons to return to Washington in October for a significant running of the MCM (Marine Corps Marathon.) It was fun! I outperformed my expectations and tried talking (in a mix of languages, most easily understood were some grunting runners greetings) with the largest number of internationals of any European race--over 80% come from somewhere abroad to participate. I sprinted over the venerable Charles Bridge where the professional photographers photographed me in my Montgomery County Road Runners togs, and finished in time to rehydrate with my classmates in the wine cellar of Melnik Castle on the Elbe River!

And, now, you can guess what comes next in the year on the run. The thirtieth running of the MCM would have a record 30,000 runners, most of them first-timers, running the scenic Marathon of the Monuments on a beautiful autumn day. I am automatically registered with each passing MCM since this race was my first official run ever—just exactly a quarter century ago. So, my original Marine Corps singlet had each five year patch with the embroidery above it that this was my silver anniversary MCM—but the much more magic number above it—the centenary Marathon!

There were lots of photographers and interviews, until I met the 84-year-old man who was doing his 160^th marathon having started at age 65 to control his weight! He was the oldest man in the race; on the 25^th anniversary of my first MCM and 100^th marathon entry, I managed to beat him by two hours. Now, I can quit---counting, that is!

THE HUNTS

The seasons were marked by several rites of passage, among them the hunts carried out in some of the wonderful wild places left on planet earth. I had signed up for the elusive Tur (Capra cylindricornis) that hangs out in the craggy slopes of the Caucasus with the scree slopes I had found to be so treacherously “user un-friendly.” A videographer was going to accompany me since this is the opening of the Tur hunting to westerners, which had been the well kept secret of party apparatchiks of the Soviet era. After several strenuous climbs and hunts, the superstitious Azeris had been worried that the one thing different about this hunt was the presence of the videographer, who was hoping to film the first-ever Tur kill for a TV program as well as video. It would have been a spectacular one, if only it could have been filmed, but he was forbidden to accompany me on the fourth day of my climb up the steep Babadog. I stopped at a craggy ridge top as the Azeris scattered to fire off their homemade guns to scare the bedded down Tur into a “drive” toward me—when they had the whole of the Caucasus to choose to run. I had thought this was indeed a “long shot” when the young man who was assigned to be with me as a ten-word “translator” whispered “Look, There!” About three miles away, a band of eleven Tur crested the far ridge and easily ran down and up the ascent in minutes we had accomplished in three hours. When they disappeared again in a shear sided valley, they had raced almost straight up the far side at what should have been considered “out of range”, but my “translator” burst out “Why no shoot?” A discussion of ballistics and 1/2mv2 energy at 750 meters could not be carried out in Azeri from my end at least. One at a time, the Tur popped over the top and disappeared. All but one, the largest, whom I had not yet seen

The last one raced with full speed 4 WD agility nearly straight up the col on the far side of the steep valley, and was about to top out and follow his fellows over the far side. For the purposes of possible sponsorship of the video, we had packed in the new Bennelli R-1, the first autoloading rifle that the venerable Bennelli arms company has ever made after a half century of autoloading shotguns. I swung this rifle with the (Bennelli-owned) Burris scope, and touched off as the big Tur was about to crest the ridge. He double somersaulted backward off the ridgeline and fell over a hundred and fifty meters to come to rest on a ledge covered with alpine flowers. The laser range finder showed him at that point across the valley on the ledge 387 meters from the rifle resting on the lair in the rocks. “Good Huntsman!” was the shout this time from my accomplice as we started out on the forty-three-minute climb to reach the fallen Tur. The results of the spectacular denouement you may see here, and it should not be too long before the full mount arrives to balance off the Kamchatka snow sheep ram on the other side of the Derwood Game Room.

The elk hunt in the Colorado Maroon Bells was every bit as spectacular and after many years of “good hunts without a shot fired” it turned out this year that the rifle season lasted less than an hour of opening morning. Gene Moore, Tommy Thomas and I climbed up the snowy slope behind the camp we had packed in only the night before, getting the big wall tent pitched in the dark. We were hopeful, since the early winter weather seemed to have moved the large elk herd, and we might have had a chance to encounter it. We had got almost to the top of the mountain when Gene and I looked up at a cow elk staring in our direction, but not yet spooked, and in very close range. We had a silently whispered debate, saying it was too early in the hunt to take the sure thing for venison, despite the abundance of cow permits we had carried, and we watched as the cow elk ambled off. We heard noises as we crested the ridge and I ran forward to the place where I had been last year, when I had sat on a snow-covered log as a small herd of elk ran by me within a few yards on each side, none of them a bull of legal size. This time, we arrived at the brim of Halsey Basin just as a large herd of over a hundred elk ran into it having been spooked out of Fevrett Basin by a distant group of hunters whose shots we had just heard. A big bull was in the lead a long way off and Gene shot him, and behind him was a good bull running fast. At the sound of the .340 Weatherby Mag from my perch on the log it stopped, and looked back over the 375 yards to where each of the three of us were at the timberline. We each shot again, but the elk just stood there until it collapsed before the shots arrived. The two bulls with wide-spread racks were centerpieces in the majestic setting of the “Southern Belles”—a scenic backdrop for the next several hours of our field dressing and skinning the trophies for later taxidermy mounts

In a full day of quartering and packing elk back to camp, we wrangled packhorses and mules, to repeat the process the following day to pack out the venison to the Crystal trailhead and return with the horse feed and supplies. After the day I spent in exploring and climbing “Mount Donald” we all retired after a big venison dinner in our comfortable wall tent. At night suspicious noises were emanating from the fly tarp over the tent. When I checked by stepping out of the flaps after midnight, there was a three-inch snow blanket atop us and more was falling fast. We were planning to pack out in the morning, and break camp to return to Denver a day early. So, we all just tucked deeper in the sleeping bags and snoozed—until the tent fell in. We packed out in the spectacular winter wonderland of snowfall in the Rockies, another scene in the repertoire of brilliant tableaux of the Maroon Bells!

And, now the hunts of autumn move Eastward, to the Eastern Shore of MD for the one opening still reserved for a special trophy awaited in the Game Room to join the new Wood Duck Drake and oak pedestal-mounted wolverine and red fox—we might try for a Sika Deer as well as Whitetails. The latter species is already well-represented on their special wall. There is another waiting capacity in Derwood—a large expanse of freezer and refrigerator space, now devoid of venison, awaiting a fresh supply. In my absence in Azerbaijan and Eritrea this summer, the electricity was knocked out by a power surge during a storm, and all the refrigerator/freezer appliances thawed and leaked out the fine elk and deer venison, Alaska salmon, Chesapeake Rockfish, Canada geese, ring-necked pheasants, chukars and even the more normal stocks of chicken, beef and pork chops which liquefied and soaked through the floors. The downstairs appliances were duck taped shut and disposed directly to a biologic hazard waste dump, and the “C & C Complete Cleaning Services” air scrubbers, dehumidifiers and mold removal were in place for over a month. The brand new kitchen Viking refrigerator/ freezer was pulled out of its alcove in order to replace the Mexican tiles and clean around its niche. As learned later, the top heavy Viking Professional Unit is on rubber wheels and poses the hazard of collapse if opened without fixation to a secure back wall. Now, the original unit has been donated to the Foggy Bottom Pantry, a program run by the United Methodist Church for feeding homeless persons near my office, and a brand new identical Viking Professional unit has been replaced in the same spot after an incident that will involve the next story of the near perfect storm that marked 2005.

KATRINA AND OPERATION LIFELINE

You have read already about Colorado snowfalls, and we have also had a few wintry scenes early this year in Washington DC, one of which shut down our ELDP courses early. But I missed most of those winter scenes by being in the tropics in Mindanao or Africa. There was one big storm I did not miss, however, the biggest natural disaster in US history. You are all aware of the havoc along the Gulf Coast of Hurricanes Katrina and Wilma and the devastating floods that followed behind them. That high water mark reached far enough to also lap at the Derwood woods in a few “fall outs” that might have amounted to my personal participation in the US disaster season.

I have described the meltdown of all the Derwood appliances in the electrical failure which, when power was restored, necessitated that all my appliances be replaced. I had earlier volunteered to be a “Volunteer Emergency Preparedness Responder” in the event of a threat to the Capital, Maryland, or anywhere in the US in case of bioterrorism, and had registered after 9/11/01 as a ready volunteer for disaster relief. I had already had my credentials “vetted” and was registered when Katrina hit and the Maryland Governor Ehrlich put out a call for experts in surgical management of trauma, public health assessment of epidemiologic threats, and tropical medicine infectious disease --and I could hardly duck this call when I was a “hit” on all three lists. I got the call on Labor Day weekend that I would be mobilized at short notice to join the Maryland Defense Force and be flown by C-130 into Belle Chase Naval Air Base in new Orleans to set up relief and rescue stations of a type as yet to be determined. I had gone to the store before the holiday weekend to stock up my depleted groceries before the call, and had loaded the refrigerator, standing out from its alcove in the middle of the kitchen floor. When I was called at 2:30 AM Labor Day morning, I came down stairs sleepily and opened the refrigerator door, removing the packaged meat and other items I had just put there earlier, and then planned to put them in the freezer. On pulling out the freezer drawer, it seemed that the room was suddenly spinning around me. Only then did I realize that the big Viking Professional refrigerator /freezer was toppling over and falling toward me which would pin me to the Mexican tile floor! I pushed as hard as I could and the refrigerator door swung open as the unit fell, shearing off in the fall with the severed stainless steel door slicing through the new kitchen wall. I emerged from under the unit wearing a couple dozen smashed eggs, and found only later the large back and blue imprint across me when I had tried to use the Bath-in-a-Bag in New Orleans devoid of power or plumbing. When later I found myself camped out on the floor of an abandoned Meadow Crest Hospital, taken over my martial law in our massive military operation, we began cleanup of the site reeking of a smell that reminded me of that which greeted my opening my front door on return from Eritrea into an electrically silent Derwood house. But, both messes are being cleared with a lot of teamwork devoted to each!

It was an amazing experience teaming up in the large Operation Lifeline efforts among the poor populations of Jefferson Parish, moving only in convoys of Humvees and emergency vehicles under cover of heavy security. We deployed teams at schools and fire stations throughout Jefferson Parish, and saw well over 6,270 patients for many kinds of problems, some directly related to the Katrina losses (everything from skin rashes from submersion in the contaminated water to a ruptured biceps from wrestling a tree trunk fallen on the roof,) immunizations against tetanus and Hepatitis A, to anxiety reactions of psychic or somatic kinds (asthma and heart attacks) to prescriptions running out (diabetes, addictions or hypertension out of control) to primary screening of people who had never had any health care before which now came to them free. A number of insights into the social problems and desperation of the lives of a lot of the marginalized Louisianans came to view, as well as close contact and acquaintance with the National Guard troops posted to cover us and distribute bottled water, ice and MRE’s to an even larger population we screened.

Some of the most interesting contacts occurred with our battle-weary troops diverted to Louisiana on return from Iraq who had been telling us stories of some of their frustrations in patrolling Baghdad. After one of the soldiers had unburdened himself of a wariness about contact with any other human strangers after sixteen months in the Moslem world until he had encountered this humanitarian mission, a large truck of donated supplies backed up to our guarded schoolyard. On the side of the truck was a hand-lettered sign “for the victims of Hurricane Katrina from the Islamic communities of Northern Texas.” After I had talked with the mullahs who were riding in the cab, we offloaded the donations. I even got the Guard troops to shake hands with Ismael and Muhammad—which might have been a transformational learning experience for all of us involved.

After two full weeks, from start-up to stand-down, Operation Lifeline volunteers were bedecked with Mardi Gras beads by New Orleans citizens and personally thanked by everyone from Chef Emeril’s cooks who had come back to feed us in the last days of our stay,, tearful patients, Jefferson Parish president Broussard who somehow managed to get Logo-printed T-shirts and caps made up overnight somewhere outside the devastated city, the top brass of the Guards and Defense forces, to the Governors on each end in Louisiana and Maryland. We were each awarded medals and commendations for our services, and one of us (typically the least involved, but with the right name and connections) received a Presidential commendation medal, accepted on behalf of each of the team members in a White House ceremony. Probably more fun and more useful, we have had and will continue volunteer reunions and continued readiness for the next disasters as well as an anniversary return to continue the rebuilding of the Gulf Coast ruined resources.

FAMILY TRAGEDY AND FRIEND AND FAMILY VISITS

Some of the surprises of 2005 were shocking and disheartening. My nephew, David Griffioen, first son of Don and Martheen and violin virtuoso as well as ABD musicology doctoral student at Indiana University was found dead in his apartment under confusing and unusual circumstances described as suicide. David had been the representative of Martheen’s family at the MMHOF celebration in Toledo in February, so I had been among the last to see him alive, and he was in very good form in conversing with friends and family on that occasion. I flew to Grand Rapids for the sweet/sad family reunion prompted by the funeral, a source of strength for all concerned. Subsequently I hosted visits from each of my sisters and their families, many for the first time ever to visit Derwood. Besides the tours of Derwood, DC and environs, my sisters helped unpack, rearrange and finally “settle in” after the Derwood renovations

Kent Snoeyink’s family came to see the Derwood they had only heard about to see for themselves and two (shortly thereafter, three,) daughters that it was not just a fantasy. They arrived just as the cherry blossoms were blooming in a cold spring rain. We may have created multiple monster cravings by enjoying the last of the elk steaks before the freezer failures, since now we have to re-supply an abruptly elevated demand

Milly’s family followed and we took in all of the sights of the Washington area, including monument and zoo tours and a state visit to Arlington Cemetery coincident with a special changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown as the new elected (again) Ukrainian president received the full treatment given to visiting heads of state with a twenty-one gun salute.

A special event of Spring vacation was the arrival of the Donald Geelhoeds. For the first time ever his family viewed Grandpa Glenn’s house and later the DC Museums near it. It was even more special on this end, since it gave me the first-time-ever view of newest Grandson Matthew David Geelhoed who enjoyed himself being taken on a tour of the Game Room by his siblings Andrew William (3^rd grader) and Kacie Elizabeth (entering first-grader), each seeing it all for the first time. Spring vacations have been very good to me this year, with later reciprocal visits to each, including returns in fall to both San Antonio to rendezvous with Michael and Judy and the adorable twins Devin Michael and Jordan Lee, and the Gainesville visit with the Grandkids when I had come to visit Donald in the post-op period after his cardiac valve replacement. The Gainesville Grandkids were all abuzz over the birth of fifteen Great Dane puppies that joined their two horses and cats in their own livestock and playtoy collections.

Other welcome visitors were Robert and Bev Croskery, who came to inaugurate some parts of Derwood and to help celebrate the 85^th birthday of their good friend Maria Tihany in Reston, Virginia, who died only a few months after their visit. We strolled the Derwood woods and visited the newer DC monuments in early summer, as well as breaking in a few of the “sous chef” professional equipment of the underused remodeled kitchen. My good friend, their daughter Virginia, has had a particularly turbulent year testing her resilience in finding her way through confusing and conflicting events and emotions. Her teaching and performing talents may be inspirations to others both here and abroad as she has enjoyed consolation with her “therapeutic livestock” Porter the jumper, Cherry the Corgi and Ciao the couch potato. I hope all the best for her as she charts her way in health and healing, for which we are all grateful.

Thanksgiving was a time of particular focus on that gratitude, with the traditional Turkey Chase 10 K Race with all the Aukward family, followed by the full trimmings turkey dinner with the Schaefer family on the Eastern Shore. The deer hunts that followed did not discover the elusive Sika deer, but a warming trend brought out the flying mosquitoes of Blackwater marsh. I double scored on deer in the last moments of Opening Day of Whitetail season, but the most amazing sightings were of hundreds of American bald eagles in a spectacular comeback for our emblematic species on the Maryland Eastern Shore.

MISSION: CHRISTMAS AND A NEW YEAR,

WITH HAPPINESS AND HELP FOR ALL!

I arrive, then, at the close of the “Year of the Mission” 2005 with one of my own. I am making multiple plans, as always, none of them perfect but many of them hoping to be quite helpful. I return immediately after the New Year to Asia, the Pacific, Africa and other new areas being opened up for help that may be offered to a hurting world—a growth industry in multiple senses of that term. In 2005 this hurting world has seen earthquakes, storms, wars, disease, famine and growing poverty, but also more people aware and willing to take on personal participation in starting and trying to help others through these trials. I will be back in Toledo at the next March’s MMHOF to support my nominees for the coming year’s induction into the select group distinguished by having done something to help and show others how it can be done—from Jill Seaman whom I had worked with in Sudan earlier this year to Rick Hodes with whom I had worked in Addis Ababa and Gondar, Ethiopia and at Mother Teresa Clinic for the Sick and Dying. Grateful for this year of health and strength and hope, neither of the adjectives in the last part of the Clinic’s title describes me, as yet, for this moment, making this a good time for planning still further missions.

The Christmas message is that of Mission--not just Merry, but Mercy-- and I wish you such joy in 2006 that it cannot but be shared!

“The Year-2005-in Pictures”

JANUARY: Winter gatherings, for warm weather runs, a grand finale Cumberland Island retreat, birthday holiday run, and an Inaugural blizzard, attend G W Bush’s Inauguration with Joe and cross the Pacific dateline to begin Mission to Mindanao and continue on to operate in Leyte, Philippines

Week One: Deceptive warm weather winter precedes blizzard, as I pack off to Eastern Shore to drive down to Fernandino Beach for our last Cumberland Island winter hunt and retreat

Week Two: Cumberland Island hog hunt holiday and return for Martin Luther King Memorial weekend

Week Three: Winter blizzard for the celebration of my birthday and I attend the Inauguration of GW Bush with Joe on the Capital Mall before packing out for Mindanao medical mission

Week Four: Losing a day enroute to Manila across the Pacific dateline, I arrive in Tiboli-land to operate and then move north to Mactan and Cebu in transit to Leyte on a repeat surgical mission to the Philippines

February: Surgical mission in Leyte and return via MacArthur Memorial to DC, for a “Valentine’s Day Massacre” preceding the big event in Toledo Ohio as I am inducted into the “Medical Missionary Hall of Fame” in a celebration attended by my sisters and families with David Griffioen representing Martheen, and Joe and the Croskerys minus one as Virginia withdraws; then visit Berkshire Medical Center as professor in winter enroute to takeoff for East Africa and a medical mission into the Sudan

Week Five: Surgical mission to Leyte with good OR cases preceding departure via the MacArthur Memorial and Tacloban takeoff for return to DC and winter

Week Six; I return from the Philippine medical mission to a cold confessional in a Valentine’s reversal which dramatically changes plans for family rendezvous in Toledo Ohio at a happy celebration with multiple families

Week Seven: The celebration of my Induction into the Medical Mission Hall of Fame for 2005, with my sisters and families in attendance, Martheen represented by David Griffioen, and Joe and the Croskerys in a special winter weekend

Week Eight: Visiting Professor at Berkshire Medical Center in a wintry visit that directly precedes my takeoff for East Africa and an inaugural medical mission to Sudan

MARCH: Inaugural medical/surgical mission to the Sudan at Old Fangak on the White Nile operating with the kit packed from my basement mission store room, with return to GWU for Match Day, sorting photos while ill and exercising a new Toshiba laptop as I hear from a finishing dissertation writer in Iowa, and receive the first of a series of family visitors in the “just-in-time” finishing of Derwood’s makeover

Week Nine: “Into Africa” by way of Nairobi and tours of game parks while awaiting the permits and clearances to enter Sudan by way of Lokichoggio, Kenya and the UN camp and flight into “Old Fangak” on the Nile

Week Ten: Intensive weeks operating in Old Fangak, Sudan, returning via Lokichoggio to Nairobi to celebrate Duc’s 30^th birthday in Nairobi, and return to DC

Week Eleven: Return to GWU for Match Day and ELDP weekend and organize photos and Sudan program

Week Twelve: Sort Sudan photos while ill and hear from a struggling dissertation writer in Iowa as I exercise new Toshiba laptop

Week Thirteen: A first in the series of family visitors from Kent and Amy Snoeyink and two and a half daughters before I prepare to run the Cherry Blossom Ten Miler with Joe in a brutal cold wind

APRIL: A cold Cherry Blossom Ten-Miler precedes a series of family visitors including the first ever view of Grandson Matthew and Donald’s family and Milly and gang, followed by the shocking news of the death of David Griffioen and a visit to Grand Rapids for the funeral, returning for the Rockville Pike’s Peak 10K and the Sudan student program and a trip to the Eastern Shore for trophy rockfish

Week Fourteen: A brutal cold wind whips us through the Cherry Blossom Ten-Miler just before the family visitors arrive, including the first-ever view of Matthew David Geelhoed and tours with Milly’s families as the cherries burst into late bloom

Week Fifteen: The full beauties of floral spring in Washington around the Tidal Basin and the ELDP weekend with the startling news of David Griffioen’s death

Week Sixteen: Unexpected visit to Grand Rapids with family for David Griffioen’s funeral, Calvin’s “Petra” and return for the Rockville 10K

Week Seventeen: Student Sudan program at GWU and Eastern Shore visits with Bill Webster catching trophy rockfish

MAY: Springtime visits to Somerset County and return with wolverine taxidermy, spring graduation season, Explorer’s Club induction as “Member” and takeoff for Prague, and Prague International Marathon, touring Bratislava and Budapest returning for Memorial Day in Derwood

Week Eighteen: Visit with Bill Webster in Somerset County and return with Wolverine Taxidermy

Week Nineteen: ELDP final semester program as spring graduation occurs for others and I am inducted into the Explorer’s Club as a “Member”

Week Twenty: The Prague International Marathon and the elective HRD course touring around the Czech Republic

Week Twenty-One: Tour Prague, Bratislava and Budapest along Danube before flying back to Memorial Day weekend in Derwood

JUNE: A visit with the Croskerys in Derwood for a special birthday celebration, a full week of ELDP “Boot Camp” and Airlie, a working first visit for Snoeyinks and Griffioens at Derwood and an unusual Somaliland connection

Week Twenty-Two: A very pleasant visit with Bob and Bev Croskery and a celebration of Maria Tihany’s birthday and tour of the more recent DC monuments on a summer “walk in the woods” in Derwood

Week Twenty-Three: Matthew David Geelhoed’s first birthday and a few summer runs as I prep for the ELDP residence week

Week Twenty-Four: The intensive residence week “Boot Camp” in the ELDP and Airlie retreat

Week Twenty-Five: A working first visit for Griffioens and Snoeyinks in the new Derwood which they help overhaul before a celebratory dinner at Clyde’s and a special invocation at DCCRC

Week Twenty-Six: Further Derwood chores as I stain the deck and find myself in a surprise keynote role in addressing the Somaliland opposition political candidates in a US campaign among the Diaspora

JULY: Mid-year 4^th of July run with Joe, the planned Haiti mission is cancelled by the US State Department, overhaul the Master Bedroom at Derwood, and compare taxidermy, scramble to combine trips and get passport expedited and takeoff for Azerbaijan and the “Big Caucasus: for a climbing adventure in scree scrambling and score on a long running shot on a trophy Tur

Week Twenty-Seven: 4^th of July run with Joe and make major purchases to overhaul Mater Bedroom at Derwood and visit to Killetts’ to compare Game Rooms

Week Twenty-Eight: Fish the Chesapeake Bay and collect medical supplies for missions forthcoming and pack up for combined expeditions

Week Twenty-Nine: Work on combining summer trips, scrambling to expedite new passport and get Derwood into pristine condition in house and yard work before travels

Week Thirty: Fly to Baku Azerbaijan and travel to Babadog “Big Caucasus” climbing in “Scree Scrambling” in pursuit of Caucasus Tur, scoring a single long shot on a running Trophy Tur

AUGUST: Tour Old Town Baku, Azerbaijan and cruise Caspian Sea before connecting via Frankfurt and Jeddah to Asmara, Eritrea, operating for weeks in Hazhaz Hospital and climbing to Debre Issem Monastery and touring Central highlands around Asmara before returning to ELDP and Derwood Disaster #1—a month-long power failure melting down all freezers

Week Thirty-One: Touring Old Town Baku and cruising on the Caspian Sea awaiting onward connections through Frankfurt to Eritrea Africa

Week Thirty-Two: Operate intensively in Hazhaz Hospital with students and Eritrean staff, and tour Central highlands around Asmara

Week Thirty-Three Climb to Debre Issem Monastery and run around the leftover relics of war machinery, before final operative cases and farewells to return to ELDP course and Derwood Disaster #1—month-long power failure and meltdown and destruction of all refrigeration appliances

Week Thirty-Four: Discard refrigerators from basement and begin long cleanup and run the Annapolis Ten-Miler

SEPTEMBER: Deployed as a volunteer to the Louisiana Gulf Coast to render medical assistance to the victims of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, with the toppling over of the Viking refrigerator in the kitchen being Derwood Disaster # 2, as I miss an ELDP session and re-group to assemble papers and projects for course and office work postponed during the volunteer “Operation Lifeline”

Week Thirty-Five: The Governor’s call to deploy a volunteer MDDF group by C-130 to Hurricane Katrina’s victims in New Orleans has me at middle of the night puling the Viking refrigerator in the kitchen over crushing the doors and wall and cracking tile and me: deployed to Meadowcrest Hospital taken over by martial law in “Operation Lifeline”

Week Thirty-Six: Fly C-130 to New Orleans as a volunteer in the MDDF to take over an abandoned hospital after an initial stagger start and set up clinics in “Operation Lifeline” with a continuous security guard around us and the patients we treated

Week Thirty-Seven: 2^nd week of “Operation Lifeline” with stories and pictures sent back through the MCCU command post and celebrate with grateful patients and citizens before flying back on C-130 bedecked with Mardi Gras beads and Governor’s Medal

Week Thirty-Eight: Re-entry to re-start restitution of Derwood disasters and collate album of Katrina photos and full-time catch up on GWU office work and ELDP back log

Week Thirty-Nine: Re-commence running and working on GWU office details as well as neighborhood party and the PR record for the 1st ever “Army 11.5 Miler”

OCTOBER: Replacing all home appliances despite glitches in every arrangement as C & C Complete Services finishes the cleaning and air scrubbing and the several attempts at getting new Viking installed as ELDP returns, I fly to San Antonio for a visit and head out to Colorado for the hunt with the grand climax to the running year at the 30^th MCM, my 25^th running of it, and my 100^th Marathon!

Week Forty: Wait at Derwood for the new appliances and completion of the clean-up to attempt to leave on this trip after the ELDP with Derwood as pristine as it was on my departure for Azerbaijan/Africa before every disaster befell the absentee homeowner

Week Forty-one: Trip to San Antonio for Columbus Day weekend with Michael, Judy and twins, followed by trip to Colorado for the packing in to the spectacular Maroon Bells for the successful opening day of elk hunting from our North Fork Camp on the Crystal River

Week Forty-two: Donald’s big operation in Gainesville with aortic valve replacement with biologic graft, as I am perched high on “Mt. Donald” peak in the Maroon Bells, then pack out in a snowstorm to come down to Crystal Colorado and return to rainy Derwood through Denver

Week Forty-three: A work week begins with ELDP papers and assignments and concludes with the special 30^th anniversary running of the MCM—my 25^th MCM and the 100^th Marathon!

NOVEMBER: Big disruptive changes in Iowa as I am making plans to leave from the ELDP to Gainesville for my post-op visit with Donald and playing with the Gainesville Grandkids, followed by supportive Indianola visit and the traditional Thanksgiving holiday run and activities followed by the hunts of autumn

Week Forty-Four: Post-marathon calls regarding big disruption in life in Iowa as I prepare for ELDP and visit to Gainesville to be with Donald post-operatively

Week Forty-Five: Play with Gainesville Geelhoed Grandkids and talk with Donald in his post-operative perspective, returning to Harford County MD for the first “Operation Lifeline” reunion of volunteers and awards for service

Week Forty-Six: Autumn leaves come raining down as I rake and read and prep ELDP work, then launch low-key visit to Indianola Iowa, learning, listening and watching Porter, Cherry and their owner

Week Forty-Seven: Return from Iowa, enter Thanksgiving week, with 10K with Aukward family and turkey dinner with Schaefers in Trappe; the MD deer season and double score on Opening Day

Week Forty-Eight: MD deer hunting, see hundreds of bald eagles, return into overwhelming backlog of postponed ELDP and other year-end work

DECEMBER: The inter-holiday period of busy schedule scrambles and future plans, with ELDP deadlines and finals, and holiday visits for family and friends and Christmas celebration

Week Forty-Nine: Re-entry into backlog after deer hunting on the Eastern Shore and the amazing sighting of hundreds of bald eagles, with past-due papers and planning of future trips, ending in the finals of the ELDP semester

Week Fifty: Following completion of ELDP semester, I prepare year-end letter and prep for travels to Highland Park, Michigan, upstate New York and return to prepare for hosting Derwood visit

Week Fifty-One: Domestic winter-time travels through the Midwest to visit family and friends climaxing in Christmas reunions

Week Fifty-Two: End of year, packing away the “Year of the Mission” as I pack up for the next missions of 2006! Happy New Year!

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